Seth Godin asked the other day if I'd be up for doing his intro when he came to town this week.
How exciting!
"Yah, sure" I said.
It'd be an honor to say a few words about a guy who's doing important work on stuff like change and leadership and fear. And about how he does it in a real and engaged and accessible way.
It'd be great if Seth added one more thing to his list of Linchpin abilities on page 218 of his excellent book, LINCHPIN.
That thing would be accessibility.
After all, how can you be remarkable or indispensable or drive change if you're inaccessible?
No doubt people were looking for answers while being close and personal with Seth this week.
But knowing him, I suspect people ended up with lots of questions, good questions, the kind poet David Whyte says are "conceived out of nowhere but...beginning to lead everywhere..."
That's what happened for me.
Seth and I were kibitizing backstage and he got to talking about "elites" and how there's millions of these kinds of these people out in the world and how disconnected, fragmented they are. Seth blogged about this being an opportunity recently.
For me, the big question since being with Seth is,
How can we get the world to see and hear about the world from the eyes and voices of next generation elites, instead of the same-old, same-old eyes and voices we see and hear today?
It's an interesting problem I'm working on with a group of innovative people.
I don't have any answers just now.
But that's ok. I have something better coming from my intro with Seth, an interesting problem, and a question beginning to lead everywhere.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Friday, August 27, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
Simple Math
You have an idea. You're working with some people on it. You wonder if it'll become a hit. Or a dud.
It's a mystery, you say.
Time to do some simple math.
Good people + good idea = great chance for success.
Good people + bad idea = maybe you got a shot at pulling this off. But, for sure, it'll be a longshot.
Bad people + good idea = bad idea. (Sorry. Ideas, no matter how good, will always die at the hands of incompetent, egotistical, arrogant, power-hungry people. Think about Congress, or the Vatican, or Wall Street bankers if you want quick examples...)
Bad people + bad idea = (quoting an old Monty Python line here...) "Run away."
Memorize this lesson. There will be a test. In fact, many tests. Everyday for the rest of our lives.
Cheating's not allowed on this test. Honestly, cheating to win is impossible.
And as long as we're alive, we can't skip the test. It'll come in handy when grappling with our mysteries.
Group study is encouraged. Especially with really good people.
In the end, if the simple math of your idea adds up right, what's there to fear?
Nothing but a little mystery.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
It's a mystery, you say.
Time to do some simple math.
Good people + good idea = great chance for success.
Good people + bad idea = maybe you got a shot at pulling this off. But, for sure, it'll be a longshot.
Bad people + good idea = bad idea. (Sorry. Ideas, no matter how good, will always die at the hands of incompetent, egotistical, arrogant, power-hungry people. Think about Congress, or the Vatican, or Wall Street bankers if you want quick examples...)
Bad people + bad idea = (quoting an old Monty Python line here...) "Run away."
Memorize this lesson. There will be a test. In fact, many tests. Everyday for the rest of our lives.
Cheating's not allowed on this test. Honestly, cheating to win is impossible.
And as long as we're alive, we can't skip the test. It'll come in handy when grappling with our mysteries.
Group study is encouraged. Especially with really good people.
In the end, if the simple math of your idea adds up right, what's there to fear?
Nothing but a little mystery.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Friday, August 13, 2010
What Planets Are We On?
A friend gave word the other day of a job switch. It sounded like one of those "Take this job and shove it" stories, subtitled, "Life is too short."
With recession still full-tilt, this made me ask "What planet are you on?"
Turns out, one where there's no life.
You ever live on a planet where there's no life?
I live on several planets everyday. Faith. Family. Friends. Job. Hobbies.
Mostly, there's lots of life on my planets. Places where I'm nourished. Energized. Filled with purpose, fueled by passion. Places where trust is high. Fear is low. And gifts of Life are in full bloom.
But some planets there's no life. Everything's dead. You can't breathe.
Planets with no life speak language like "I should" or "I'm afraid" or "What'll they think" or "What's the use" or "Who do you think you are" or "You need to" or "That'll never work" or "You don't have a choice"...
Seems like the hardest thing to do every day is knowing what planet I'm on.
One of my heroes is Ignatius of Loyola, the medieval fellow who started the Jesuits. Four hundred-plus years ago, he invented an exercise to help figure out what planet we're on. He called it The Examen.
It's a short exercise, best performed with a slice of quiet wherever you can carve that into your day. Simply begin with awareness of where you are and gratitude for where you're at.
Then reflect on your day and take note of those areas where you found energy, purpose, passion, maybe even a sense of peacefulness. Likewise notice those areas where life was on edge, dry, defeating, anxious.
And that's it. No need for decisions or judgement. Just awareness of places where there's life and places with no life. With that awareness, Ignatius figured folks would make better choices and live better lives.
"Where's life?"
It's a good question to ask often. Way better than the one I usually ask, "How's life?"
My friend is smart to have listened to simple, piercing words like that. And then ask,
"What planet am I on?"
Most admirable is seeing someone who trusted the answer, and had the guts to pack up and move from the dead zone to a place where there's life.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
With recession still full-tilt, this made me ask "What planet are you on?"
Turns out, one where there's no life.
You ever live on a planet where there's no life?
I live on several planets everyday. Faith. Family. Friends. Job. Hobbies.
Mostly, there's lots of life on my planets. Places where I'm nourished. Energized. Filled with purpose, fueled by passion. Places where trust is high. Fear is low. And gifts of Life are in full bloom.
But some planets there's no life. Everything's dead. You can't breathe.
Planets with no life speak language like "I should" or "I'm afraid" or "What'll they think" or "What's the use" or "Who do you think you are" or "You need to" or "That'll never work" or "You don't have a choice"...
Seems like the hardest thing to do every day is knowing what planet I'm on.
One of my heroes is Ignatius of Loyola, the medieval fellow who started the Jesuits. Four hundred-plus years ago, he invented an exercise to help figure out what planet we're on. He called it The Examen.
It's a short exercise, best performed with a slice of quiet wherever you can carve that into your day. Simply begin with awareness of where you are and gratitude for where you're at.
Then reflect on your day and take note of those areas where you found energy, purpose, passion, maybe even a sense of peacefulness. Likewise notice those areas where life was on edge, dry, defeating, anxious.
And that's it. No need for decisions or judgement. Just awareness of places where there's life and places with no life. With that awareness, Ignatius figured folks would make better choices and live better lives.
"Where's life?"
It's a good question to ask often. Way better than the one I usually ask, "How's life?"
My friend is smart to have listened to simple, piercing words like that. And then ask,
"What planet am I on?"
Most admirable is seeing someone who trusted the answer, and had the guts to pack up and move from the dead zone to a place where there's life.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Friday, August 6, 2010
My Island, My Brain
A GUEST POST
by Bill Hickey
FRIDAYS POST asked last summer if you have your island. A place to go to let wisdom find you.
After seeking My Island for many years, I finally found it.
The only way you get to My Island is by riding a ferry-boat for twenty minutes to a place unsuspecting tourists hope, believe is a quaint little town at the end of the boat ride.
To me “quaint” does not mean a historic town with cute boutiques, wine bars, overpriced art galleries and restaurants with entrees that are inedible and unpronounceable. Go to Carmel, California for that kind of quaint.
My kind of quaint is 21st century Madeline Island in Lake Superior. And it is the only vacation place in America where there is….nothing to do.
Seriously.
There is nothing to do on My Island. And I hate missing any opportunity to be there.
I suspect that the local chamber is not fond of me. But, who cares. I don’t even think the place has a chamber of commerce.
There are two paved roads. A couple of okay food joints. A Robert Trent Jones golf course. A state park. A city park. A historic Catholic church. And, of course, a town dump. (Now called an environmental disposition center).
The most happening place is a burned down café, a bar actually, that smokes the competition when it comes to night life, despite the sign out front greeting patrons with this message, "Sorry, We're Open."
Other than that, there’s nothing to do.
The speed limits are horribly, painfully slow. But this gives you a chance to see plentiful, prancing deer, an occasional bear, wolves, a plethora of birds and of course the main attraction, Lake Superior.
Like the island’s effect on your speedometer, this place has a similar effect on your brain, a known medical condition -- known to me anyway -- called "island brain." You slow down with island brain. Well, you better slow down, or you’ll go nuts.
Most of us in our everyday lives are convinced we have no time for a place like this.
A place where you'll find a very limited supply of Sunday papers.
Where the chow from the food joint’s kitchen arrives on its clock, not yours.
Where an evening of entertainment is a full-color display of the northern lights, accompanied by the hoot of a great northern owl, good people and, before tucking in, a good book absorbed amid the still woods and the big lake’s rolling waves forever running ashore.
Every time I leave My Island, I hope my island brain lasts more than a few days when I return to civilization.
I hope you find your island. And, when you do, I hope you get island brain like I do. You’ll find you’re not really missing much.
You’ll find that’s the beginning of wisdom finding you.
--bill
twitter hick77
(Bill Hickey lives in the Twin Cities. Bill is a husband, dad, attorney, entrepreneur and former notary public. He admits to writing this piece under the influence of island brain.)
by Bill Hickey
FRIDAYS POST asked last summer if you have your island. A place to go to let wisdom find you.
After seeking My Island for many years, I finally found it.
The only way you get to My Island is by riding a ferry-boat for twenty minutes to a place unsuspecting tourists hope, believe is a quaint little town at the end of the boat ride.
To me “quaint” does not mean a historic town with cute boutiques, wine bars, overpriced art galleries and restaurants with entrees that are inedible and unpronounceable. Go to Carmel, California for that kind of quaint.
My kind of quaint is 21st century Madeline Island in Lake Superior. And it is the only vacation place in America where there is….nothing to do.
Seriously.
There is nothing to do on My Island. And I hate missing any opportunity to be there.
I suspect that the local chamber is not fond of me. But, who cares. I don’t even think the place has a chamber of commerce.
There are two paved roads. A couple of okay food joints. A Robert Trent Jones golf course. A state park. A city park. A historic Catholic church. And, of course, a town dump. (Now called an environmental disposition center).
The most happening place is a burned down café, a bar actually, that smokes the competition when it comes to night life, despite the sign out front greeting patrons with this message, "Sorry, We're Open."
Other than that, there’s nothing to do.
The speed limits are horribly, painfully slow. But this gives you a chance to see plentiful, prancing deer, an occasional bear, wolves, a plethora of birds and of course the main attraction, Lake Superior.
Like the island’s effect on your speedometer, this place has a similar effect on your brain, a known medical condition -- known to me anyway -- called "island brain." You slow down with island brain. Well, you better slow down, or you’ll go nuts.
Most of us in our everyday lives are convinced we have no time for a place like this.
A place where you'll find a very limited supply of Sunday papers.
Where the chow from the food joint’s kitchen arrives on its clock, not yours.
Where an evening of entertainment is a full-color display of the northern lights, accompanied by the hoot of a great northern owl, good people and, before tucking in, a good book absorbed amid the still woods and the big lake’s rolling waves forever running ashore.
Every time I leave My Island, I hope my island brain lasts more than a few days when I return to civilization.
I hope you find your island. And, when you do, I hope you get island brain like I do. You’ll find you’re not really missing much.
You’ll find that’s the beginning of wisdom finding you.
--bill
twitter hick77
(Bill Hickey lives in the Twin Cities. Bill is a husband, dad, attorney, entrepreneur and former notary public. He admits to writing this piece under the influence of island brain.)
Friday, July 30, 2010
One Idea for Back-to-School
If someone asked you to invent a high school or college course what would it be?
My pick would be "Building Your Platform for The Platform Age."
This class would be about leadership. It would be different than the standard vision, values, integrity and intellect courses designed to lay the foundation for good and great leaders.
The first day of this class would start with an offbeat exercise. Imagine yourself as a great technology platform like Apple or Microsoft or SAP. These platforms are built to be easy to connect with, to get stuff done. The result is tens of millions of people do so to get lots of work accomplished.
Homework for the first day of class would ask leaders to describe all the ways you are, or could be, easy for people to connect with. It'd also ask to identify ways you make connecting difficult and how you can fix that.
This platform building class would examine the concept of platform, chiefly understood as your community with intention; something that doesn't simply happen. No, great leaders work hard at building their platforms, their communities, disciplined with consistent purpose, seasoned with distinctive culture biased toward action.
This class would provide context about The Platform Age. We live in a moment, according to the Association of American Colleges and Universities, when one-third of the entire U.S. labor force changes jobs every year; when 91% of employers need their employees to take on more responsibilities and use broader skills than in the past; when writing, reasoning and social / interpersonal skills are most in need and command the highest salaries.
Yes, we live in an age screaming for good and great leaders nurturing communities. People who have fundamental leadership skills. But who also have the know-how to build platforms of people and processes to connect to make things happen together.
This class will teach that building platform is art. There is no standard template; no one-size-fits-all platform.
There are, however, tools of the trade. And today they are abundant. Many are free and easy to use. And they help amplify communication and culture, reinforcing connection across the platform. Blogs, social media, podcasts, are a few of these tools.
The art of platform building is seeing a need in the world and defining your response, then finding your voice and communicating it authentically and consistently with the right tools in a way that inspires others to join your response.
History is generous with the grandmasters of platform building. So class will dwell on maestros from various walks, from civic leaders such as Kennedy, Reagan and Obama; to the religious, Gandhi, John Paul II and The Dalai Lama; to business, Welch, Jobs and Gates; to thinkers and writers, Merton, Tolle, Godin.
Final exams will be in essay form, asking students to stretch beyond their fundamental leadership skills; those you've acquired to climb the mountain.
This final test will ask a simple question. Even more important than climbing the mountain, this examination wants to know,
"How will you go about moving the mountain?"
--tim
twitter tjmorin
My pick would be "Building Your Platform for The Platform Age."
This class would be about leadership. It would be different than the standard vision, values, integrity and intellect courses designed to lay the foundation for good and great leaders.
The first day of this class would start with an offbeat exercise. Imagine yourself as a great technology platform like Apple or Microsoft or SAP. These platforms are built to be easy to connect with, to get stuff done. The result is tens of millions of people do so to get lots of work accomplished.
Homework for the first day of class would ask leaders to describe all the ways you are, or could be, easy for people to connect with. It'd also ask to identify ways you make connecting difficult and how you can fix that.
This platform building class would examine the concept of platform, chiefly understood as your community with intention; something that doesn't simply happen. No, great leaders work hard at building their platforms, their communities, disciplined with consistent purpose, seasoned with distinctive culture biased toward action.
This class would provide context about The Platform Age. We live in a moment, according to the Association of American Colleges and Universities, when one-third of the entire U.S. labor force changes jobs every year; when 91% of employers need their employees to take on more responsibilities and use broader skills than in the past; when writing, reasoning and social / interpersonal skills are most in need and command the highest salaries.
Yes, we live in an age screaming for good and great leaders nurturing communities. People who have fundamental leadership skills. But who also have the know-how to build platforms of people and processes to connect to make things happen together.
This class will teach that building platform is art. There is no standard template; no one-size-fits-all platform.
There are, however, tools of the trade. And today they are abundant. Many are free and easy to use. And they help amplify communication and culture, reinforcing connection across the platform. Blogs, social media, podcasts, are a few of these tools.
The art of platform building is seeing a need in the world and defining your response, then finding your voice and communicating it authentically and consistently with the right tools in a way that inspires others to join your response.
History is generous with the grandmasters of platform building. So class will dwell on maestros from various walks, from civic leaders such as Kennedy, Reagan and Obama; to the religious, Gandhi, John Paul II and The Dalai Lama; to business, Welch, Jobs and Gates; to thinkers and writers, Merton, Tolle, Godin.
Final exams will be in essay form, asking students to stretch beyond their fundamental leadership skills; those you've acquired to climb the mountain.
This final test will ask a simple question. Even more important than climbing the mountain, this examination wants to know,
"How will you go about moving the mountain?"
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Friday, July 16, 2010
Nine Questions
"Every creature is a word about God and is a book about God."
Meister Eckhart's words above can make you ask,
"So, what kind of book am I?"
Good question. Tough question.
Some days my book's a comedy. Some days a tragedy. Too few days, a love story. Often, my book's a dry do-it-yourself (myself) instruction manual. And every day it's a mystery.
The other day I came across nine great questions asked by Bret Nicolaus, a fellow who's in the book business. He wrote these questions to help books become bestsellers.
If we are the books Meister Eckhart says we are, Bret's questions are worth answering:
1) What makes Your Book DIFFERENT from similar books out there? (This is the most important question of all!)
2) What is the biggest BENEFIT of the thing that makes Your Book different?
3) What specific PROBLEM is Your Book the answer to?
4) WHO are the people out there that have this problem (primary, secondary, and even tertiary audiences)?
5) What is the "DISASTER" waiting to happen if people don't read Your Book?
6) What popularly held MYTH does Your Book explode?
7) What is the BUT of Your Book? (This essentially tells the customer the thing they will be most surprised to learn as they read Your Book. Think of it as the "secret" Your Book will reveal to the reader... Example: "Everyone thinks that milk is good for you, BUT milk actually causes everything from the common cold to serious, life-threatening diseases." The book then exposes all the risks of drinking milk -- a surprise to most people.)
8) What is the FIVE-SECOND description of Your Book (Just the facts, Ma'am)? This is a straightforward explanation of the product. At its most BASIC level (think talking to a first-grader) what is Your Book about?
9) Why are you the right person to write Your Book?
If I was a book looking for a job, or starting a business, or ramping up a new sales campaign, or going into politics, or about to be read by God (yikes!), I'd work really hard to nail the answers so I could be a bestseller, compared to all the other books out there trying to do the same thing I'm hoping to do.
Working through these questions makes me think about the outside jacket cover and wonder if the art on the outside of my book would line up with the art inside.
I also wonder how hard it would be to come up with a title, and even the inside front-cover copy describing my book.
How would you do that?
Here's to finding time and a good beach this summer -- reading, writing, living, mulling Your Book.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Meister Eckhart's words above can make you ask,
"So, what kind of book am I?"
Good question. Tough question.
Some days my book's a comedy. Some days a tragedy. Too few days, a love story. Often, my book's a dry do-it-yourself (myself) instruction manual. And every day it's a mystery.
The other day I came across nine great questions asked by Bret Nicolaus, a fellow who's in the book business. He wrote these questions to help books become bestsellers.
If we are the books Meister Eckhart says we are, Bret's questions are worth answering:
1) What makes Your Book DIFFERENT from similar books out there? (This is the most important question of all!)
2) What is the biggest BENEFIT of the thing that makes Your Book different?
3) What specific PROBLEM is Your Book the answer to?
4) WHO are the people out there that have this problem (primary, secondary, and even tertiary audiences)?
5) What is the "DISASTER" waiting to happen if people don't read Your Book?
6) What popularly held MYTH does Your Book explode?
7) What is the BUT of Your Book? (This essentially tells the customer the thing they will be most surprised to learn as they read Your Book. Think of it as the "secret" Your Book will reveal to the reader... Example: "Everyone thinks that milk is good for you, BUT milk actually causes everything from the common cold to serious, life-threatening diseases." The book then exposes all the risks of drinking milk -- a surprise to most people.)
8) What is the FIVE-SECOND description of Your Book (Just the facts, Ma'am)? This is a straightforward explanation of the product. At its most BASIC level (think talking to a first-grader) what is Your Book about?
9) Why are you the right person to write Your Book?
If I was a book looking for a job, or starting a business, or ramping up a new sales campaign, or going into politics, or about to be read by God (yikes!), I'd work really hard to nail the answers so I could be a bestseller, compared to all the other books out there trying to do the same thing I'm hoping to do.
Working through these questions makes me think about the outside jacket cover and wonder if the art on the outside of my book would line up with the art inside.
I also wonder how hard it would be to come up with a title, and even the inside front-cover copy describing my book.
How would you do that?
Here's to finding time and a good beach this summer -- reading, writing, living, mulling Your Book.
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Friday, July 9, 2010
Sub-Prime Goes To College
That title comes from Steve Eisman, a hotshot investor in THE BIG SHORT, the excellent Michael Lewis bestseller about our financial collapse that triggered the Great Recession.
Steve Eisman was one of the few people who saw the meltdown coming. Now he says trouble's brewing in another area:
"Until recently, I thought that there would never again be an opportunity to be involved with an industry as socially destructive as the subprime mortgage industry. I was wrong. The For-Profit Education Industry has proven equal to the task."
Oh my!
If you enjoyed THE BIG SHORT, you'll love Eisman's testimony to Congress about the mess many for-profit, subprime-like colleges are creating. It's really good stuff and worth a read.
Michael Lewis is one of my favorite storytellers. But, yikes, I hope and pray there's not another book in him detailing a new-new cluster; this one being about how America hosed up higher-ed; where for-profits pumped out bogus degrees; where traditional campuses crowed about how many student applicants they reject each year; where students and families are crushed by debt.
How is it possible that you can walk into to a world-class brand like Target and get fashionable back-to-school duds for less than a hundred bucks?
And then buy a world-class device like Apple's slick iPad that puts the world in your fingertips for a few hundred bucks?
And then settle in to study with a comforting beverage on nearly any city block in America from a world-class place like Starbucks for a few dollars?
And yet, the smartest people in our smartest institutions haven't invented affordable, accessible and open learning for all, acquired from any of the college and university platforms one might desire.
Why do we accept a system that breeds exclusiveness or inaccessibility or high-cost or crushing debt or all-of-the-above as normal?
Imagine what it'll be like when our kids and their kids who want to learn at a high level can walk into a quality school just like you can walk into Target, Apple Store and Starbucks. And then walk away without onerous debt. Imagine the top-spin that will put onto our economy.
Isn't this the knowledge age? A moment when we need all well-educated hands on-deck? A time to steer clear of subprime results with our most precious natural resource, our future generations of talent?
How great for America if our higher-ed leaders took notes from wise people at places like Target, Apple and Starbucks, and imagined completely new ways to mint really smart people openly, affordably and excellently.
Could there be a better way to spend summer vacation?
--tim
twitter tjmorin
Steve Eisman was one of the few people who saw the meltdown coming. Now he says trouble's brewing in another area:
"Until recently, I thought that there would never again be an opportunity to be involved with an industry as socially destructive as the subprime mortgage industry. I was wrong. The For-Profit Education Industry has proven equal to the task."
Oh my!
If you enjoyed THE BIG SHORT, you'll love Eisman's testimony to Congress about the mess many for-profit, subprime-like colleges are creating. It's really good stuff and worth a read.
Michael Lewis is one of my favorite storytellers. But, yikes, I hope and pray there's not another book in him detailing a new-new cluster; this one being about how America hosed up higher-ed; where for-profits pumped out bogus degrees; where traditional campuses crowed about how many student applicants they reject each year; where students and families are crushed by debt.
How is it possible that you can walk into to a world-class brand like Target and get fashionable back-to-school duds for less than a hundred bucks?
And then buy a world-class device like Apple's slick iPad that puts the world in your fingertips for a few hundred bucks?
And then settle in to study with a comforting beverage on nearly any city block in America from a world-class place like Starbucks for a few dollars?
And yet, the smartest people in our smartest institutions haven't invented affordable, accessible and open learning for all, acquired from any of the college and university platforms one might desire.
Why do we accept a system that breeds exclusiveness or inaccessibility or high-cost or crushing debt or all-of-the-above as normal?
Imagine what it'll be like when our kids and their kids who want to learn at a high level can walk into a quality school just like you can walk into Target, Apple Store and Starbucks. And then walk away without onerous debt. Imagine the top-spin that will put onto our economy.
Isn't this the knowledge age? A moment when we need all well-educated hands on-deck? A time to steer clear of subprime results with our most precious natural resource, our future generations of talent?
How great for America if our higher-ed leaders took notes from wise people at places like Target, Apple and Starbucks, and imagined completely new ways to mint really smart people openly, affordably and excellently.
Could there be a better way to spend summer vacation?
--tim
twitter tjmorin
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